Page 15 of Awakening the Beast
“What?”
I sigh again, trying to ground myself as I push open another door, scanning yet another unfamiliar room. “She's had our baby,” I repeat.
My mother exhales a stiff breath. “I told you—you should’ve waited, Arlo. She was already struggling without you and seeing you while heavily pregnant must’ve been even harder.”
I flick on the light as I answer, irritation creeping into my tone. “Yeah, well, waiting wasn't a fucking option, Mom. I wasn’t going to be apart from her any longer.”
“How are they both?” she asks.
I step into our baby girl's nursery, the sight of it silencing me. Everything’s carefully placed—tiny blankets, stuffed animals, soft, pastel hues. It hits me, the weight of what I’ve missed, and I just stand there, taking it all in.
“Arlo?” she presses, the concern unmistakable. “Are you still there?”
“Yeah,” I finally mumble, shaking myself out of my thoughts. “I'm here, and they’re fucking fine.”
“That’s good to hear.”
As she continues talking, my eyes land on a few bags tucked in the corner. I walk over and kneel in front of them, unzipping one and searching inside.
“Did you tell her everything?” she asks, wanting details.
I groan, pulling out a tiny sleepsuit. “I told her what I fucking could. She was in shock; I didn’t want to overwhelm her.”
There’s a pause on the other end of the line before she speaks again. “You haven’t seen Cree yet?”
I shake my head, even though she can’t see me. “No, not yet. I’m at home getting things for the girls. Wren had a caesarean, so she’s got to stay in the hospital for a few days. I’ll see Cree after I’m done here and take him to meet his little sister.”
“Okay,” she responds. “I’ve told Sara and Jasper about your return.”
I smirk slightly, pulling out another onesie with ‘Daddy's Little Angel’ scrawled across the front and my lips twitch up in amusement.
“Oh yeah? How’d they take it?” I ask absently, folding the onesie and continuing to go through the bag.
“As expected, they’re shocked,” she says. “But they’re eager to see you.”
“Yeah, well, they’ll see me today,” I reply, now focused. “I need you to drop off my clothes. I’ve got nothing here except what I’m fucking wearing.”
I lift a tiny outfit with ‘Lumi Hayes’ embroidered on it. The sight of my last name attached to hers brings an unfamiliarwarmth to my chest, even if my mind is still spinning from everything.
“Of course,” my mother assures. “Jasper will bring me.”
I place everything neatly back into the bag before zipping it up and standing. “Nice one. I’ll see you soon.”
Hanging up, I shove the phone back into my pocket and head to our bedroom. Without a second thought, I strip down and step into the bathroom. The hot water hits me as I get into the shower, and for a moment, everything else fades into the background, leaving just the sound of the water and the weight of what comes next as I try to mentally prepare myself.
When I’m done with the shower, the doorbell echoes through the mansion. Wrapping a black towel around my waist, I stride out of the bathroom and head toward the front door, knowing it must be my mom and Jasper.
As I descend the stairs, I catch a glimpse of them through the glass panelling. I pull the door open, and my eyes lock with Jasper’s. He looks stunned, his face paling, like he didn’t actually believe I was back until this very moment.
“No fucking way,” he breathes.
Before I can respond, he lunges forward, catching me completely off guard. His arms wrap around me in a tight hug, and the force of it makes me stumble back a step, fighting toregain my balance. I stand there, stiff as a fucking statue. No man ever dares to touch me like this—family or not. But Jasper holds on, like he's afraid I might disappear again if he lets go.
I reluctantly lift my hand, giving his back a few awkward pats until he finally releases me, pressing his brow against mine. His palms cup my face, his gaze filled with unfiltered pain.
“I'm so sorry, brother,” he murmurs, his voice breaking. “I should have gotten you out of there.”
The sadness and guilt in his blue eyes hits me, stirring something deep in my gut that I rarely feel for a family member. I tap his cheek with my fingers, then point at his chest, my tone steady.
